Dibid yibou hibear thibat?

...fond memories of the past...

Back in high school, my friend Eric and I spent tons of time together. Most days, I'd drive him home from school (yes, I was the chauffeur) and we'd chill for a couple hours at his home, drinking coke, eating crap food and talking like guys do.

During many a late-afternoon visit, E's brother David and sister Lauren would hang around like younger siblings do, like units of "cool" could be absorbed by osmosis... we were so cool....
Though he didn't like these familial units hanging around most of the time, there were times where Eric engaged with his family in pestering the best friend, namely: me. They had their own language it seems...

The three of them (or the two of them, and occasionally, the mother would join in too) would jabber along in what seemed to me to be gibberish. Then they would laugh hysterically, making it very clear that it was at my expense. Needless to say, I put my language skills to work and, along with a couple hints, figured out what they were saying. They called it "Double Dutch" though the name doesn't matter. It was coded english, like the more well-known Pig Latin and it worked famously!

Those initial torture sessions led to the use of this code more often, and it was great. Imagine high school while being able to say anything at anytime about anyone and only the people you trust could understand. It was like we spoke Japanese or Swahili or Xhosa only even Japanese, Swahili, or Xhosas couldn't decipher it either!!! AMAZING!!!

Until Colleen quietly came up to me one day and rattled off a flawless sentence in Double Dutch. She knew.
She Knew?
She KNEW!?!
Yup. She knew.
You see, Colleen was another good friend and a smart one at that. She heard Eric and I (not that we were bashful about it or worried about being discovered) and put her brain to work, discovering the secrets on her own that I needed clues to find. She beat us. Bravo!

Death to Double Dutch.